His Home Was Empty
by Deja Know I Been Lookin For Vu
Summary: The season finale revisited, where a few of the important events haven’t occurred. Frasier/Roz.
1. HIS HOME WAS EMPTY

**Title:**** His Home Was Empty****  
****Author: Deja Vu**  
**Summary: The season finale revisited, where a few of the important events haven't occurred, such as changes at KACL with Frasier and Roz, the appearance of Charlotte, Eddie's neutering, etc. Frasier/Roz.**  
**Rating: Mild language, no violence, crude humor.**  
**Disclaimer: I don't own Frasier, but this story is mine.**  
**Characters: Frasier, Roz, Alice, and others.**

* * *

**HIS HOME WAS EMPTY**

Frasier Crane stretched out on his couch, placing his arms behind his head. His apartment was blissfully quiet, and he intended to enjoy the strange state.

His father Martin had recently married, and Frasier had hardly seen him—or his dog Eddie—since. Thank goodness on that last account.

Niles had just had his first child, and he was caught up in the excitement, so Frasier hadn't seen him much lately either.

Frasier smiled, remembering the birth of his own son. He regretted that he hadn't been able to spend much time with Frederick as he grew older, but, then again, there were a lot of things he regretted in his life.

He tried to pull his mind away from this dismal thinking. For almost the first time since he moved to Seattle, he had some _real_ peace and quiet! He _needed_ to enjoy it!

He squirmed a little, trying to find a more comfortable position on the couch, but then he found his eyes gazing at a black chair which, though it was familiar, was placed in an unfamiliar place. After years of Frasier's complaining and wincing at the dreadful sight of it, Martin's tacky armchair was finally gone.

Frasier felt a smile growing on his face. "It's gone! It's gone!" he sing-songed softly to himself, unable to stop from dancing, just a little bit. He stared at the black chair for a few moments more, then, with a little bit of surprise, he felt the smile fading. The chair was gone—but so was his father and Daphne.

His home was empty.

Frasier couldn't help but drop his jaw in sudden horror. After years of desiring this much-deserved peace and quiet, he found he didn't want it any more. The silence, rather than being soothing, was deafening. He groaned.

Then the doorbell rang.

Startled, Frasier leapt up off the couch. Who could it be? Surely not his father or brother...

When he answered the door, he saw a deliveryman standing there with a clipboard. "Sign this," the man grunted, handing it to Frasier.

"Yes, of course," Frasier said, taking it and signing it. He looked a little puzzled; he hadn't been expecting any packages. "What is it?"

The deliveryman, a brown-haired nondescript balding man of about fifty, gave him a wicked smile. "Oh, you'll see," he said as he motioned at a few people standing behind him. They brought in their deliveries and set them on the floor, leaving Frasier standing gaped-mouthed, watching.

There was a rather suspicious blue "container" and an even more suspicious round and fluffy "thing," but Frasier ignored those for the time being and went straight to the big cardboard hole-filled box with a sense of dread.

At the top was a letter reading:

_Hey, son._

_I figured you might be lonely, what with us all leaving you. So I got you a gift._

_Now, I know what you're thinking, but before you fly through the roof, at least look at her._

_Martin_

Frasier felt as if he might indeed be sprouting angry and devilish wings to fly through the roof; in fact, he felt like flying through the whole apartment complex and ripping everyone's roof to shreds! He took in a deep breath and then calmly went to the blue container, opening it carefully on the side and taking several steps backward.

A few moments later, something small and black poked out, followed by something not as small that was brown and white.

For several seconds, Frasier did nothing but practice his imitation of a beached fish. At last, he gasped in horror, "I'm staring at a miniature Eddie!"

The puppy blinked up at him with sad dark brown eyes, and he shook his head ferociously. "No, no, _no_! Just when I get some peace and quiet, Dad tries to spring _this_ on me! Well, I _won't_ have it!"

The puppy gazed at him a few seconds more and then sat back on its haunches and started to howl.

"Oh, don't cry," Frasier pleaded. He couldn't help but be affected against his own will—just a little—by the minute canine's pathetic yowling. After flailing his arms in desperation, he walked forward and awkwardly picked the dog up. He found a note hooked onto its collar. It read:

_Nice to know ya got this close to this adorable Jack Russell, Fraze. Don't ya just love 'em?_

_Now, we both know you're gonna be lonely, and if you keep her, we'll be killing two birds with one stone._

_See, one of Eddie's girlfriends had puppies, and this one was the runt, and no one wanted her. I couldn't stand to watch her keep getting rejected, so I took her and told Mrs. Whiteson I'd find her a good home._

_Please, just try this out for a little while. I sent you everything you need to get started, and she's mostly house trained._ ("Mostly housetrained," Frasier mouthed as he read the letter, scowling.)

_Love,  
Martin_

Frasier scowled again. Of course his father had thrown in "Love" at the end. Stupid, conniving—

A howl broke through his thoughts, and he looked down at the puppy wriggling in his arms. "It's all right," he said, trying to soothe her. He awkwardly placed her on the couch, where she instantly started sniffing the various nooks and crannies. Frasier quickly surveyed the articles he'd been sent.

The fluffy round thing was a doggy bed, and the box was full of items such as puppy shampoo, a leash, an extra collar, a blanket, puppy food—

"They make food especially for puppies?" Frasier asked aloud, incredulous. Then he realized it was a somewhat stupid exclamation. They made _baby_ food, why wouldn't they make _puppy_ food? He sighed.

He turned back to the puppy, recognizing her to be in a 'sniff and squat' phase. Hastily uttering various chains of phrases which didn't quite make quite enough sense to record here, he rushed to her. "No!" he cried, grabbing the leash and swiftly hooking it on to her. He ran out of his apartment.

* * *

**RETURN OF THE DOGEYE**

After Frasier returned leading the puppy on a leash, he plopped automatically down onto the couch, exhausted. The runt tried to pull the leash out of his hands and then thought better of it. She extended her small body as best as she could on the side of the couch, scratching at it for Frasier's attention. He picked her up reluctantly and placed her on his chest. An evil grin spread across his face. "I wonder if I should call you Lillith?"

The puppy barked indignantly, walking right over to his face and staring down at him.

"Not another Eddie," Frasier groaned, trying to ignore the dog's staring. But he had the feeling she was not anything like Eddie, other than her appearance. At least, he hoped she wasn't. "Fine, I'll call you..." He frowned, then, on a hunch, looked at her ID tags. His father was one step ahead of him. Of course. "Jess," he muttered.

The puppy barked happily, though she was, of course, still staring at him.

His home was no longer empty.


	2. DOGS AND WOMEN

**DARLING COMPANION**

"Frasier, you're late," hissed Roz as a very unkempt Frasier stumbled in.

"I know," the man agreed tiredly. "I'll explain later."

After Frasier's opening remarks, they took their first caller, Jon, a man who was feeling lonely.

"Hello, Jon. I am listening."

"I'm feeling lonely," the man stated immediately.

Roz rolled her eyes; she'd just noted that.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Frasier asked.

"Weelll," Jon held out in thought, "I used to live with my mother, and I really hated it. But then she married someone, and now I'm all alone. I thought this was what I wanted, but now it's so quiet around the house that I'm about to scream."

Frasier waited a moment before speaking. "I sense some parallels here...Jon, do you have any pets?"

There was a long pause. "No. Why?"

"Do you like dogs?" Frasier continued.

"Uh, yeah, I guess," Jon answered, sounding confused.

"Then I recommend getting a dog. That'll take care of both the quiet atmosphere and the loneliness. That _is_ what you want, isn't it?"

Jon hesitated before replying. "Yes. Yes, it is. Thank you, Dr. Crane. I think I just might do that..."

Roz looked at Frasier through the sound-proof glass. "A dog?" she mouthed.

Frasier shrugged. It _was_ an answer.

They continued on with the program.

* * *

**  
DOGS AND WOMEN**

"All right, so what's the excuse?" Roz asked after the radio show, putting down her headset. "Why were you so late?"

"Last night was a nightmare," Frasier groaned, rubbing his temples. He'd been waiting to complain about this. "My dad sent this little bitch named Jess over to my apartment, and of course I couldn't just send her back without giving her a chance. I fed her dinner and everything; then I made up her bed on the floor. I went to my room, but just when I was about to fall asleep I heard this incredible howling at my door, so I just let her in. She insisted on sleeping with me, which was all right for the first few hours, but then she kept nibbling on and biting my ear, and—" he cut off as he saw Roz's horrified expression. "What?"

"_Ew_, Frasier!" she exclaimed. "Keep your personal life to yourself."

Frasier blinked at her. "You wanted to know why I was late, and there's not much personal about—"

Roz stared at him, still disgusted. "Frasier, what's _wrong_ with you?"

Frasier sat in silence for a moment, considering the question in a way she had not intended. What _was_ wrong with him?

But he knew the answer to that. He was lonely.

But it was a different kind of lonely now. Jess had replaced his father's companionship, but now he wanted a _woman's_ companionship. Someone to have and to hold for the rest of his life...

As Frasier mulled over what she had just said, Roz stared at him. When he had talked about his relationship with Jess, something strange had tugged at her. What had happened to him? Had he really gotten so jaded about his relationships?

Roz knew that she was probably similarly jaded, but she wanted so much for it to be otherwise. She wanted to be married to someone she loved, wanted to have a father for Alice. But she feared it was too late. Who would be willing to accept both Roz _and_ her daughter? Roz was no longer unattached as she had been in her wild and free days. Surely, finding a husband would be next to impossible.

Frasier felt as if he were about to break down. "What isn't wrong with me?" he returned at last, almost sounding a bit frantic. "I'm divorced, I rarely get to see my son, and, even with Jess, my home still feels empty. I'm so lonely, Roz. I need female companionship."

Roz looked at him through narrowed eyes, feeling as if they had their lines crossed. "What about Jess? Doesn't she count as female companionship?"

The man stared at her blankly. "The dog?"

"Dog?" Roz exclaimed. "Is that what you call your girlfriends?"

"Girlfriend?" Frasier snorted. "She's not my _girlfriend_!"

"Oh, so she's just a several-night-stand? Does she know this?"

Frasier blinked at her. "Roz, what are you talking about? Jess is a dog."

"Yes, that's what you said, and I really don't think—" Roz cut off as something occurred to her. She stared at him suspiciously. "Does she bark?"

"All night long," he confirmed.

That wasn't a satisfactory answer for Roz. "Does she have a wet nose?"

"Yes. She looks just like Eddie, only female and in miniature. Roz, did you think I meant—"

"Oh, shut up!" Roz interjected, not wanting to touch on _that_ particular subject any more. "I can't believe your dad got you a dog!"

"Neither could I," Frasier chuckled. Suddenly, he thought he knew what Roz had believed him to be talking about.

"Are you gonna keep her?"

He shrugged. "I wasn't going to at first, but now—I don't know."

Roz glanced at her watch. "I promised Alice I'd take her to the park today. Do you wanna come and bring Jess?" She smiled. "I know Alice would be happy to see her."

"Well," Frasier said, thinking. "All right. We'll come."


	3. I WAS GOING TO THE PARK ONE DAY

**I WAS GOING TO THE PARK ONE DAY...**

Alice ran up and gave Frasier a hug. He smiled and spun her around. After she was back down on the ground, she turned to Jess. "A puppy!" she exclaimed joyfully. Jess yipped and tried to jump on her, and Alice giggled, sitting on the ground to play with the young canine.

Frasier sat beside Roz on the bench. "It appears two new friends have met."

"Yeah," Roz smiled.

Without thinking, Frasier put his arm up on the top of the bench and, incidentally, behind Roz. He hadn't thought anything of his arm-on-the-back-of-the-chair action; it was a manly impulse that was next to impossible to fight. It took only a few moments for Frasier to register his close proximity to Roz, and as soon as he did his pulse started to speed up. Wondering what had come over him, he cleared his throat and began talking to ease his nervousness.

"How are you doing, Roz?"

She turned her head slightly to look at him. She thought about answering it simply, 'Fine,' but she knew he wanted something more than that. "I'm in just about as big of a rut as you are," she answered shortly.

"Where are we going wrong?"

Roz shrugged. "I've been asking myself that for years."

Frasier's eyes twinkled. "You've been asking yourself where _we_ have been going wrong?"

"_No_," she stressed, looking a trifle annoyed. "I've just been wondering why _my_ relationships always go sour."

"You ever think that maybe we've just been looking in the wrong places?" the psychiatrist asked, eagerly scooting just a little closer toward his producer. "What if what we've been looking for has been underneath our noses all along?" Frasier Crane was now feeling a trifle mischievous, perhaps so as to cover the strange pounding of his heart, and he asked, "Roz, would you go on a date with me tonight?"

Roz stared at him, feeling her blood start to surge heavily through her veins. What?

Frasier was asking her to go on a date with him? Didn't he remember the disaster when they had sl—

"Are you out of your mind?" she asked, her voice sounding incredulous. But a trickle of something else made it into her words...

"Oh, come on, Roz! Don't tell me you have other plans?" he challenged. She didn't have any plans, and he knew it, and he knew she knew he knew it.

Roz tried to grasp at some worthy excuse, but then she saw her daughter playing with Frasier's new puppy. Her excuses were now half-hearted, only for the sake of show. "But Alice—"

"Call a baby-sitter."

"But Jess—"

"Is perfectly fine at home by herself in her pet taxi. In fact, she could stay and play with Alice, if you'd like."

"But—"

"We'll have dinner at my place. Seven o'clock. I'll come by to pick you up and drop off Jess, complete with half of PetCo's supply."

Roz stared at him blankly. "Half of PetCo's supply?"

"Yes. It seems my father believes that a pet requires more material belongings than a mere human."

"Uh huh." Roz shifted her head to gaze at her daughter. What had she gotten herself into?


	4. REALIZATIONS

**REALIZATION #1**

Frasier bustled about his apartment, trying to make everything _perfect_. The music, the table setting...

He paused amidst his bustling and looked down at Jess. "What do you think?"

She barked in approval, wagging her minute tail.

Frasier smiled. He felt giddy, as if he were flying, but not as if he were about to fly through the roof, this time; instead, as if he were flying through the clouds. He felt that all his past troubles no longer mattered, as if a burden had been taken off him. What had happened? Why did he feel that way? What was different?

Nothing was different—yet, everything was different.

He could no longer fritter away the day bantering with his father or talking about opera with his brother. They had new lives and families now, and it was about time he went after the same thing.

And suddenly, after years of failed romances, he knew who he wanted to be with. She'd been in front of him all along; he'd seen her every day at work, shared both his good and his gloomy experiences with her. She was the only non-relative who truly _knew_ him.

Frasier suddenly felt as if he'd had the breath squeezed out of him, and he staggered over to the couch. He wanted to be with Roz...He _loved_ Roz.

How could he have been so blind? After their one night together, he'd told himself it was a mistake. Had convinced himself. But it _wasn't_ a mistake.

Loving Roz wasn't a mistake.

"Love," Frasier laughed aloud, gaining a curious look from the Jack Russell terrier on the floor. He turned suddenly sorrowful. "As if Roz would ever love me..."

* * *

**REALIZATION #2**

Roz stood in front of her mirror, putting on a pair of earrings. It was just Frasier. Why did she even _care_ how she looked?

Then again, why had he asked her to come to his home for dinner?

Hadn't they failed as a couple already? What more was there to do?

But she shivered as she realized that maybe they'd just needed this time, needed to go through all these failed relationships, before finally being ready to accept that which was staring them straight in the face, finally ready to settle down.

_Settling down?_ she questioned herself. She laughed aloud, but it was weak, and she knew it.

Swallowing, she tried to slow her heart rate and confront the issue. Frasier. What were her feelings for Frasier?

Roz thought long and hard about it. She worked with him. She felt comfortable talking with him. If she ever murdered a man, he would be the first one she ran to for help with hiding the body.

And that left her where?

She bit her lip. Frasier. How did she feel about Frasier?

She thought back to the glint in his eyes when he interacted with Alice. How the two had seemed to connect...How he could make a great father for her...

Roz felt a tear in her eye. Alice needed a father so _much_.

And she...

She needed a husband.

And she loved Frasier.

A chill went down her spine as she repeated it aloud in a whisper. "I love Frasier."

How long? How long had she felt these...these feelings for him? And why was she realizing it only now? She thought of Martin and Niles. Two of the Crane boys had newfound family members. For Martin, a wife. For Niles, a child.

Maybe it was time that Roz too indulged herself in the addition of a new person into her life. _Truly_ into her life.

She let out a heavy breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

What was she going to say to Frasier?


	5. HIS HOME WAS EMPTY

**HIS HOME WAS EMPTY**

Frasier swallowed. This was it.

Roz answered the door, gesturing at him to come in. He did so, handing Jess' leash to Roz's teenaged, gum-chewing babysitter. Alice came running full-speed ahead at him for her hug, which he willingly gave to her. He kissed her lightly on the top of her head, then sat her back down. "Look what I drew!" Alice prompted, grabbing his hand and taking him over to a crayon-drawn picture. "It's you, and me, and Mommy!" she exclaimed.

"It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," whispered Frasier, a lump in his throat. In his voice, there was not a trace of the humoring note adults often had while speaking to children about their artwork. Instead, the words were full of sincerity. As Frasier stared down at the crayon picture of him and Roz holding little Alice's hand, he knew that there was not one Van Gogh or Picasso that could fill him with such intense feelings. Nothing could match this simplistic drawing. Nothing.

Little Alice beamed with pride before running over to play with Jess.

"Bye, honey," Roz said, kissing her daughter. Though he hadn't noticed, she had heard what Frasier had said, and her heart was fluttering in his chest. The words had rang so true...

Both of them hardly remembered the trip over to Frasier's apartment. It seemed to them that they were just suddenly there.

Roz smiled at Frasier's choice of slow romantic music, thinking it typical of him. They sat down and ate, making small talk that neither would remember afterwards.

And suddenly, they were staring into each other's eyes, their hands linked together on the table.

"Roz," Frasier said in a hoarse voice. "I know we told each other this wouldn't work long ago...But Roz, I think it _can_ work." Before she could say anything, he cut her off. "Roz. I know you may not believe me, but I love you...I've always loved you, and I always will..." He swallowed hard. "Even if you can never return my feelings." He felt as if his heart were on the table, and she could either take it or stab a knife through it. Either way, he would be glad he had confessed his feelings at last.

Roz's eyes glistened. "Oh, Frasier. A week ago, I would've said this could never work...Now...Now, I think I'm ready for this step." Roz took in a haggard breath. "Frasier, I love you, too."

They both half-rose awkwardly, meeting in a sweet kiss that promised of things to come.

Elsewhere, a little girl laughed as a little dog yelped playfully. Both suddenly tilted their heads thoughtfully, as if they'd been given a notion of something very important happening.

In Frasier's apartment, two kissing adults slowly broke away from each other, a hesitant and almost shy smile on each of their faces.

Frasier felt his smile growing as he imagined his home one day being filled with the pitter-patter of Alice's and Jess's feet, as well as the much more dignified steps of the beautiful and radiant Roz Doyle. His peace would be gone, and he cared not a bit.

His grin soon rivaled that of the Cheshire Cat's.

Well, his home _was_ empty...


End file.
